Seen Her Before
by PagetPaulson
Summary: He was sure that was her.
1. Chapter 1

Emily closed the passenger side door to the SVU and let her boss drive a little farther down the street to get to that parking spot they'd seen coming down the street. It had been over thirty minutes of them driving up and down the side streets of The Village and knowing Hotch, he was not letting this open spot get away.

Checking her watch, the agent was close to rolling her eyes. They were almost two hours behind schedule.

"Got it!" The older man jogged back down the street and showed his subordinate the jingling keys in his hand. "Got the spot."

Emily's lips thinned into a straight line to stop her laughter from bursting out at the look of the older man. "You ok?" she asked with a chuckle, watching him wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"New York in August?" Hotch asked, opening the door to the coffee shop for the younger woman. "Am I supposed to be ok?"

The brunette woman moved her curled hair from the sweat around her neck as they walked toward the coffee counter. "Excuse me, is there a Rachel Green here?"

Eyes widening at the sight of the officers, the manager quickly offered up his hand. "Gunther."

Emily let him shake her hand. "Gunther," she nodded. Taking back her hand, she flashed her badge to Gunther. "Emily Prentiss. Does Rachel Green still work here?"

"No ma'am," the platinum haired man said quickly, picking up the rag he had been cleaning the counter. "But she and her friends are here almost every day." Gesturing over to the couch, he nodded. "She's in the purple."

Both agents nodded thankfully to the manager of the coffee shop and made their way over to the couch. Stepping in front of the group of friends, Emily flashed her badge once more. "Rachel Green?"

Rachel looked up from her coffee to see the two dark haired agents standing there. "Can I help you?" Her voice cracked, and she immediately heard a snort from her ex on the couch next to her.

Leaning into her friend, Monica slapped her arm. "What'd you do now?"

"Nothing!" she defended, setting down her coffee. "God, what do you think of me? It's not like I'm Phoebe."

The blond with a multicolored barrette in her hair felt her jaw drop. "Hey!"

Emily felt her boss grow stiff beside her and she held up a hand to get the attention back on her. "You are Rachel Green?" she asked, her patience in tact.

"I am," she nodded, standing from her seat. "Look if this is about that skirt that I bought and then took back after wearing it I'm sorry but I had a business meeting and I had nothing to wear and it was really cute but I wasn't going to wear it ever again, you know?"

Hotch could feel his head about ready to explode.

The other agent gently shook her head and smiled as nicely as she could to the younger woman. "You were a witness to a robbery the other day?"

Rachel let out a breath, her hand slapping against her chest. "Yes. Is that it?"

"It may be connected to a string of murders we're investigating," the brunette man piped up. Gesturing to a quiet space by the windows, Hotch nodded. "Is it possible we can talk for a moment?"

Walking out of the bathroom, Chandler shook his hands out to dry them.

Gunther flinched as tiny water droplets hit his forehead, and he took the dish rag in his hand to smack the younger man with it.

The funny one of the group turned, his eyes on the older man. "What?" His hands waved around before him. "What was that?"

The waiter quickly pointed to his hair. "Do you know how long it takes to get my hair like this?"

"Thirty seconds?" Chandler asked, shaking his head. "You have like no hair."

"I can report you to those cops over there, you know."

The brunette man shook his hands at the older man behind the coffee counter. "For what? Sprinkling your hair with water?" His voice grew louder as he turned to the FBI agents Gunther had been gesturing at. "What do you think they're gonna do? Arrest me? If you want to do that at least let me put some fertilizer at the roots, or..." he stopped, his voice trailing off at the sight of the woman talking to his friend.

Her hair was longer, definitely darker, and her wardrobe was a lot more professional than it every had been, but he was sure that it was her.

Chandler watched as Rachel left the pair by the window, the familiar woman putting something in the breast pocket of her blazer, and he slowly made his way to her.

"Not very helpful," she mused, smoothing her hands over the hem of her blazer as she and her boss made it for the door. "We have two more to interview before we have to get back downtown to the precinct."

"Kathy?"

Hotch shook his head, holding the door open for the younger woman. "I'll need a drink."

Emily laughed, sharing a nod with her boss as they walked out of the coffee shop. "I'll buy yours if you buy mine."

"Deal."

Chandler threw the doors opened and followed the pair out, his hands starting to sweat from seeing the woman who had broken his heart into a thousand pieces. It may have been three years prior, but Kathy always loved her. "Kathy?" When she didn't turn around, the lanky man quickly moved toward them and took her arm. "Kathy, it's me."

Hotch was quick to turn around and push the younger man off his subordinate. "Hands off," he ordered, his hand laying against his gun.

"Kathy," Chandler breathed.

Emily frowned, gently shaking her head at the younger man. "I'm sorry," she apologized, taking her badge out once more and showing her ID to the stranger. "SSA Emily Prentiss."

His eyes left the badge and looked at the familiar woman once more.

"Can we help you?"

Chandler gulped, moving his arm just enough to have the other agent let him go. "No." He watched them get into a near car and drive off, his eyes following them until they disappeared. Walking back into the coffee shop, dazed and confused, he sat himself down between his best friend and Phoebe with her guitar. "That was Kathy."

Rachel frowned over the rim of her coffee mug. "Her name was Emily."

"Didn't she look just like her?"

Turning back to the empty doorway, the dark haired woman sitting with her brother at the nearest table shrugged. "I guess."

Chandler ran his hand over his mouth, his elbows settling on his knees. "That was Kathy," he breathed, thinking back to that beautiful face he'd seen for months back out on the street, the sunlight hitting her with such care. "I know it was."


	2. Chapter 2

Shaking his head that he held in his hands, Chandler kept his eyes on the coffee table in his friend's living room. "I swear it was her."

"Chandler, you were just seeing things."

The funny one of the group lifted his head and glared at the blond beside him. "Rachel you saw her face too! She was Kathy," he breathed, his eyes sad as he remembered his ex. "I know it was her."

The new mother gave a shrug of the shoulders, holding her two year old daughter close to her as she readjusted herself in the chair. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Chandler. She looked familiar but I didn't think it was her. She was with the FBI."

"That doesn't mean it can't be Kathy!"

Monica frowned. "So she went from actress to FBI in like eight years?"

"A lot can happen in eight years!" he pushed.

Ross pushed back at his friend's arm when he saw him grow angry. "Hey," he said calmly, waving his hand in front of the younger man's face to get his attention. "Chandler, we didn't say it wasn't her, ok? All we're saying is is that it most likely wasn't."

Chandler shook his head. "You didn't see her."

"I did see her. I was with everyone else just like you were when she came into the coffee shop. She looked like her, I'll give you that. But you have no proof that's Kathy."

Standing from the couch, the brunette man gave a strong shake of the head.

Joey sighed. "Come on buddy, sit down."

"I don't want to sit down."

Rachel tried to stay quiet in the chair she sat in in her friend's living room as they tried to calm down the funny one of the group. The woman he was mentioning was the only one he had loved and the way she broke his heart had made all of them hurt, but he hadn't been able to get over it.

Reaching down into her purse, the new mother handed her friend the business card the FBI agent had given her. "Here."

Chandler took it with care, his eyes peering down to the name inscribed above the two numbers given.

 _Special Agent Emily Prentiss._

"She gave it to me to be able to call her if I knew anything else," Rachel explained. "Take it. Call her if you think it's really her."

Chandler wanted to smile. "Thanks." Standing, the funny man kept his eyes on the card and left the apartment, crossing the hall to enter his own. He knew it was Kathy. How could it not be her?

Those big brown eyes? The sad smile the agent had given him was the same Kathy had when she accidentally dropped her can of soda on his carpet. And those dimples?

She was Kathy.

So she dyed her hair and let it grow out. She wore suits now instead of checkered skirts. She had given up her acting to pursue a career in the government. That didn't mean she wasn't his Kathy.

Pulling up a barstool to sit beside his foosball table, Chandler sat with his head in his hands, his eyes flickering from the card to the phone over on his kitchen counter.

He was sure it was her.


End file.
